


Hero Education and Navigation

by BubblyWashingMachine



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: I could tag this as BNHA but nah, If your OC is in a story I will tag you, Multi, The only people reading this are from Sketch anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 04:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblyWashingMachine/pseuds/BubblyWashingMachine
Summary: A collection of short stories from the HENaca community on Sony Sketch. I will list who the OCs belong to at the beginning of each chapter that they feature in! This is all for fun. If you dislike the portrayal of your OC, I'm happy to change things.





	Hero Education and Navigation

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter features my OC, Morten, and Chucii_'s OC, Mercury. I hope you enjoy it! I love, love, love these characters together, and I had such fun writing this scene.

Mercury and Morten dragged themselves down her street slowly, arms heavy with shopping bags. The pavement was grey, the sky grey, the buildings grey – Mort had a sudden vision of his own hair, also grey, blending into the surroundings. Rendering him invisible.

“Thanks for doing this,” Mercury said mildly, her usual content smile facing away from him and across the road, hair streaming out behind her like ribbons. Mort felt himself hunching over a bit next to her glorious figure, fingering his own course, dry hair self-consciously. Ever since he had first met Mercury, she seemed to glide effortlessly around, beautiful in a way that people who don’t realise they are beautiful are. Standing next to her felt like being under a spotlight – it was both hard to look at her, and hard to look away.

She hummed softly. They were carrying groceries back to her house for the weekend, and Mort had offered to help. He never had anything better to do – his dorm room was hardly a reprise, and going home was… out of the question. Besides, he wanted to meet Mercury’s sister.

Morten looked down at his sneakered feet. “It’s n-no trouble,” he whispered. She made a noise of agreement and they continued in silence, her slightly in front, him shuffling behind. His headache was back. He shifted a plastic bag to his other hand.

“Look, a cat.”

Mercury had stopped. Mort staggered to avoid barrelling her over, while she dropped the shopping bags unceremoniously onto the ground – Mort winced as an apple rolled out and clunked onto the road – and held her hand out to the cat. The creature liked her, like most creatures did, and was soon letting itself be petted and stroked, purring softly. It probably knew her – Mercury knew all the stray cats around here. She offered it a little piece of dried meat from her pocket – further proof of her cat-charmer expertise. Of course Mercury would carry dried meat around, just in case she met any cats. Of course.

The apple rolled to a stop in the middle of the road.

Morten screamed, clutched his head. _Screeeeeeeeeeech!_ A motorbike would run over it, career into the building where Mercury and the cat crouched. He gasped for air. _Screeching tires, yellow, bright yellow paint, flashing headlights, a crunch – bone, or stone, or both – Mercury screaming, the cat guttering, smoking engine._ Morten covered his ears. _The driver laying half on the pavement, half under the bike – literal halves, a broken pool of red – the apple smashed into paste –_ he groaned, doubled over.

_Tiny dolls scattered along the sidewalk, motionless._

“What? What’s wrong?” Mercury rushed over. She kneeled beside him and waited.

“T-the apple,” Mort forced out. “The a-apple.”

“That one?” she pointed at the fruit laying innocently on the road.

“Bike – driver – move – it,” he cried out.

_Mercury’s hair, spread across the footpath like a spool of silk thread spilled from clumsy hands – her woollen cardigan torn and bloody, pieces of metal –_

“Here! Here!” She placed the apple in his hands. He was shaking too hard to hold it, and it hit the concrete again.

They waited some more. Some of her dolls crawled into his lap, cradled his face, tickled his neck. It didn’t take too long for him to stand upright once again, and they slowly picked up the shopping bags and continued walking to her house. The ringing in his ears slowly died down.

“Did you have a – you know, vision?” Mercury said quietly. Mort couldn’t trust himself to speak, so he nodded.

“Are you alright?”

He shrugged. She didn’t have to know how close she’d come to dying – it was better for him to pretend it was a stranger. It was easier when it was a stranger. He looked back up and saw her staring concernedly at him – unusual for her to show this much emotion around him. He wondered absently how terrifying he must have looked.

Mercury didn’t ask any more questions, and tossed the now-bruised apple into a rubbish bin as they passed it.

Close by, a yellow motorbike passed them.


End file.
